What A Man's Gotta Do
by RosieAnnieUSA
Summary: Being partners means you've got a safe place during the storm.


The sound of rain woke Jed Curry, long after midnight. The rain pattered against the windows and the roof. A light wind moved the lacey curtains back and forth. He lay on his back, listening to the rain fall and enjoying the sweetened breeze that freshened the stagnant air of his hotel room.

Slowly he became aware of other sounds; horses knickering, men's low voices, a cough. He sat up quickly, fully awake. His pistol hung on the headboard, and he slowly eased it out of its holster and crept on tiptoes to the window. Pushing aside the curtain with the barrel of his gun, he peered around the window frame, trying to see but not be seen. He looked out cautiously and saw – nothing. No crowd of men gathering to form a posse. Instead, several men were walking down the wooden sidewalk, singly and in pairs. Along the unpaved street, wet horses stamped their feet and pulled restlessly at their ties.

Curry pulled the curtain further back. Across the street, he saw a bartender, still in his work apron, closing and locking the saloon doors. No wonder he'd heard so many men at one time. His chest felt tight, and he realized he'd been holding his breath. He consciously took a slow, deep breath, willing himself to relax. The tension drained out of him, and he felt exhausted. He sank into a battered armchair, resting his arms on the padded arms of the chair, still holding his pistol loosely in his grip.

The street sounds faded away. He looked at the other bed, where Heyes lay still. Too still? In the darkness, he couldn't tell if Heyes' chest was moving. He got up, putting his gun back in its holster. He crossed the room quickly and rested a gentle hand on Heyes' chest. The heartbeat was strong and steady.

Heyes stirred, and his eyes opened slowly. He blinked a few times, trying to focus.

"Hey partner."

Heyes turned his head side to side restlessly. He started to stretch but stopped when it hurt.

"What's wrong?" Heyes asked. His words were slurred.

"Nothin'" Curry replied. "It's rainin'."

"You woke me up to tell me that?"

Curry sat down on the bed alongside his friend.

"Yeah, sure. Ain't you the one who always wants to know what's goin' on?"

Heyes pushed himself up into a sitting position. Curry resisted the urge to help.

"Not when I got better things to do, like sleep."

"I'll keep that in mind," Curry said.

Heyes closed his eyes. Concerned, Curry rested his palm on Heyes' forehead.

"I'm okay," Heyes muttered.

"No fever," Curry said, withdrawing his hand. "How you feelin'?"

"Terrible."

Despite his worry, Curry smiled.

"Want more laudanum?"

"No. It makes me sleepy."

"It's the middle of the night, Heyes. You should be sleepin'."

"I would be, if you weren't wakin' me up for a weather report."

"Thought I heard a posse gatherin' outside."

Heyes' eyes opened wide, and he tried to get up, but Curry put his hands on Heyes' shoulders and held him down.

"Easy now. It weren't nothin'. Just the saloon closin' and the last drunks goin' home."

"Oh." Relieved, Heyes collapsed against his pillow.

"We lost 'em, Heyes. We can stay here awhile so you can relax and heal up."

"I'm ready to go anytime."

"If you say so. How about I get the horses ready now and I throw you across your saddle like a sack of potatoes."

"I can ride," Heyes insisted. "I've ridden hurt worse than this."

"I know you have," Curry agreed. "I just can't remember when."

A flash of lightning brightened the room, followed by a long, slow roll of thunder. Fat raindrops pounded against the windows.

"Storm's getting' worse," Curry said. "Not a fit night for man or beast."

Heyes didn't respond.

"Ain't nobody gonna follow our trail in this stuff, not even an Apache." Curry smiled at Heyes, urging him to share the joke, but Heyes was quiet.

"Heyes. Heyes. Look at me." Heyes reluctantly turned his head towards his friend.

"Relax. Nobody knows we're here."

"The doctor knows," Heyes interrupted.

"Don't matter none. You know how bullets fly in these minin' towns. He's treatin' a couple gunshot wounds every day. We got some funds for a change, so we can stay here a week or so, till you're ready to ride. Nothin' to worry about."

"If that posse finds us, Kid, I want you to promise me you'll leave me and go." Heyes said quietly.

"What the hell kind of thing is that to say to me!" Kid said. "After all the years we been together, you think I'm the kind of man who'd leave his partner behind?"

"I know what kind of man you are, Kid, and that's why I'm tellin' you, I want you to go. You wouldn't last six months in prison. You'd be dead, and it'd be my fault, and Kid, I couldn't live with that. That'd kill me sooner than getting' shot and fallin' off my horse."

"Huh. Well, considerin' you just tried to get yourself killed by getting' shot and fallin' off your horse, I guess I have to believe you." Another long roll of thunder punctuated the conversation. Both men turned to look at the window. The rain, now mixed with sleet, came down in sheets.

"You need the quilt, Heyes? Feels like it's gettin' colder."

"Yeah, thanks, Kid." Curry got up and unfolded the quilt that hung on the baseboard, laying it across the bed and pulling it up almost to Heyes' neck.

"That feel better?"

The warmth did feel awful good to Heyes. It seemed to soothe all his aches and pains.

"Sure does. Thanks." His eyelids were getting heavy. Even the sound of the thunderstorm, loud as it was, was lulling him back to sleep.

Curry sat down on the bed again. He saw Heyes was drowsy, and that was a good thing, but he knew if he left things unsaid now, they would never be said.

"Heyes," he began. Something in Curry's tone made Heyes open his eyes and listen hard.

"We been partners a long time, ain't we?" Heyes smiled his response.

"I ain't runnin' out on you, any more than you're gonna run out on me, so don't even talk that way to me. We ain't partners for some stupid reason like some men say, like it's somethin' we got to do, some kind of duty. We're partners because we're friends and we trust each other. That's just the way it is. And, unless you really piss me off by tellin' me to run out on you, we're gonna stay partners. So shut up and go to sleep, will you?"

Heyes grinned broadly. Even in the darkness, he could sense Curry's answering grin.

"Kid?" Heyes asked. "I think I could do with a bit of that laudanum after all." A flash of lightning illuminated Curry's surprised expression.

"If it's what a man's gotta do to get better, I guess I ought to do it," Heyes explained. "Especially since I don't want you to load me on my horse like a sack of potatoes."

"I'll get you a dose – a small dose! Just enough to help you sleep, okay?"

"Okay. Just a little bit. I don't want to get used to that stuff."

"I don't want that neither." Curry poured a scant spoonful from the brown bottle on the nightstand. He lifted Heyes' head gently with one hand, and Heyes swallowed the liquid gratefully. Curry put the spoon back on the nightstand.

"That ought to kick in pretty fast," Curry said.

"Usually does." In fact, Heyes thought he could already feel the effects. His headache was fading, and his arms and legs felt heavy as gold bars. Curry saw his friend's breathing slow and deepen. Watching Heyes sleep was making him sleepy, too. He glanced over at his own bed with the rumpled covers and felt it calling his name.

Curry put one hand on Heyes' chest. The strong, steady heartbeat reassured him. Satisfied, Curry got up and crawled into his own bed. The thunderstorm didn't show any signs of weakening. Nope, he thought, ain't nobody good enough to track me and Heyes through this kind of weather. He pulled the covers up around his neck. He figured they'd both sleep late.


End file.
